Monday, 8 September 2008

Dieting And Trolley Rage

It’s Monday morning again and I’m feeling cheesed off. After my initial optimism regarding the green tea, cayenne pepper and Helix Slim “diet”, I got on the scales last night and, low and behold, I’m still 10 stone. I was sure I had lost a bit of weight. I felt slimmer, but obviously I was just deluding myself. My only faint bit of hope is that the period which threatens to arrive, does so and I can then blame my lack of weight loss on pre-menstrual fluid retention.

The job front is equally depressing, as the temporary contract I thought I was going to get did not materialise due, in part, to the fact that I was in a noisy restaurant Friday afternoon and thus missed the agency’s calls. This has not gone down too well with the husband who is getting more and more anxious about my lack of employment by the day. There’s nothing suitable on the permanent front either so, at this precise point in time, I’m buggered. It’s not as if we desperately need the money, as we could live quite comfortably on my husband’s salary alone. However, he is a stickler for fair play and feels that if he has to go out to work then so do I, despite the fact that I am now doing all the shopping, housework, washing, ironing, cooking, etc, etc., I’ve come to the conclusion that men just want it all ways.

Speaking of shopping, I’ve just got back from Tesco where I was overcome by trolley rage. Why, oh why, do people abandon trolleys in the middle of the aisle whilst aimlessly perusing the shelves for things they don’t need? Or suddenly stop in the middle of the aisle, totally oblivious to the fact that they are about to be run down by a heavily loaded trolley that won’t take “stop” for an answer? Or, stand blocking the aisle whilst they catch up on the latest episode of their next door neighbour’s life story and the fact that Mrs Smith at No.19 has a particularly nasty boil on her arse? Is it just me, or are these people on another planet? I mean, don’t they have anything more pressing to do than spend the whole day swanning around Tesco?

I’m not sure whether it’s the menopause, PMT or Irritable Person Syndrome that’s getting to me, but something has to give soon or I may just have to borrow St. John’s wart.

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